Other Places You Can Find Me

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

While being spun around by college classes, I've found myself with too much stuff to use this blog for its purpose: keeping me writing. I write things elsewhere and I'm not all that motivated to keep this one up. I have to get creative enough with chemistry. . .
Sample question: Why did Lewis force hydrogen to only have 2 dots in his electron-dot system?
Answer: Because hydrogen likes the number 2 because that's the number for its best friend: helium.
Another sample question: Aunt Lois likes cake. How many atoms are in her cake?
Answer: Not enough information. What kind of cake does she have? Does Aunt Lois even have the cake? The cake isn't hers until its in her mouth and then it can't be properly analyzed because her spit will be all over it and I'm not touching it after she puts her weird auntie germs on it.
The questions really are that bizarre sometimes. Trigonometry gets even more bizarre.
Sample question: If Jimmy wants to walk around a circle once and its circumference is measured in fluffy pink cotton balls, how many radians (measured in pi) will he walk?
Answer: This is trigonometry. He has to walk in a TRIANGLE. Next question please.
Sample question: We're going to assume that you put the wrong answer. Please answer the previous question and give an answer in Spanish with measurements converted from fluffy pink cotton balls to the average number of jugglers it takes to write math books.
Answer: zero. Jugglers can't write math books if they're juggling. Duh.
Sample question: Answer the original question.
Answer [found in the back of the book with scribbles for scratch work]: Because jugglers can write in their free time and Jimmy walks like Triangle Man when Triangle Man visited the Teletubies in LaLa Land, the answer is obviously 43.9.
See?! I need no blog.
This blog is done.
As always, take care. 8)

~~~
I don't know much, but I do know that I want to know as many things as possible and live wisely. I'm far from being wise and my knowledge is pretty limited. Still, I crave the new things in my path and off the path. School and my hobbies seem to dump plenty onto the path, but there's always something off the path that seems just as good. Unfortunately, those things out there are generally bad. One of the worst: raisins.
I have tried all my life to like raisins. They're in cookies, breads, cakes, cereals, salads, muffins, and many other things that are supposed to be good. Because they're so abundant, I have tried to enjoy to like that foul dried fruit that I dislike so much. I will never like raisins. I can tolerate them in a freshly-baked cookie if I burn my tongue on the heat of the freshly-baked part first, but that's about it. My experience with raisins seems to speak for many other things I don't like yet I try to get on good terms with. The most troubling: people.
I wish I could apologize to, smile at, chat with, bake cookies for, or hang out with a few people I'm thinking about, but I just can't. I'd have to be at wit's end with no hope and nothing else in my life to get back on good terms. At least, that's how it feels. They are exactly like raisins: they're abundant, around a lot of things/people I like to be with, and only tolerable after the first sting of pain from a seemingly delicious source.
It's a shame. I don't really have any enemies. It's just those people who I can't be friends with. If they were enemies, I could spew off lines about how evil they are and how great I am. They're not. They're (mostly) good people. It just makes me feel bad (mostly). I should probably tell a story.
In elementary school, there was a new girl named Cassie. She was quirky, sweet, and friendless. She wrote a story about a panda and his friends in a little pink notebook and played with little stuffed animals in public in the most embarrassing way possible. I and my classmates could not bring ourselves to adopt her into the class instantly, so the teacher decided to intervene. I was sitting by myself at my desk when Mrs. Smith asked, "Why don't you befriend Cassie? She's new and you're a really nice girl. Welcome her. Talk to her. I bet you'll be good friends." So, Cassie and I talked. Pure discomfort clouded the air. We did not click. I couldn't ask her if what the other kids had said was true because those things weren't necessarily nice, and we couldn't find much of anything to talk about that would bind us. We never became friends. Couldn't even have a friendly conversation. It just didn't work. I don't think she ever found a true friend in anyone else either. We were all so mean to her in that way. I felt the bad because I had a chance to put gossip aside and welcome her yet I didn't. I labeled her as "weird" and felt terrible about failing to be the friend that I could have been.
It's silly, but things like that always pop into my head. Life isn't all raisins, but there are too many to ignore. It's just a matter of figuring out how to view them in a more positive light. I'll be working on that in my sleep. . .

About Me

I've been called a dork and an oxymoron. I can't disagree with those terms. I am an artistic nerd. My personality is melancholy/phlegmatic. I like photography, words, and music. I started this blog for a composition class and then just kept it. It can be used as proof that I'm a pack rat. If you want to know more about me, just have a look around. I'm bound to leave a bird-free breadcrumb trail of information for the curious.